


take yourself home

by peaceoutofthepieces



Series: Skam Bingo 2020 [8]
Category: SKAM (Netherlands), WTFock | Skam (Belgium)
Genre: Established Relationship, Idiots in Love, Jealousy, M/M, drunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:21:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25822819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peaceoutofthepieces/pseuds/peaceoutofthepieces
Summary: “Jens.” The sound of his name and the hand in front of his face works to snap him out of his trance. He flicks his eyes around until they land on Robbe, going in and out of colour as the lights strobe over him. “You zoned out again. Are you okay?”“Mmhm,” Jens nods his head easily, happily. Chilled. He’s better than okay. He’s great. He’s at a party with his best friends and his head is clear of any and all intrusive, unwanted thoughts in his pleasant tipsy state and best of all he is nowhere nearLucas.“Is he drunk?”
Relationships: Jens Stoffels/Lucas van der Heijden
Series: Skam Bingo 2020 [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1729147
Kudos: 56





	take yourself home

Jens is not _drunk_.

He’s had maybe a couple more beers than he usually would, or maybe it’s because he’s mixed more than he usually would, throwing back a few colourful shots he doesn’t quite remember the name of, and he’s a little bit tipsy. But he’s still aware of himself and his surroundings, isn’t falling over anything, isn’t going to throw it back up. The dim, flashing lights at the party are messing with his vision a little bit and the loud music would cause a fuzz in anyone’s ears. It’s normal. He can hold more alcohol than this. He’s held more alcohol than this before and wasn’t drunk. 

He’s a bit tipsy. 

He is _not_ drunk. 

“Jens.” The sound of his name and the hand in front of his face works to snap him out of his trance. He flicks his eyes around until they land on Robbe, going in and out of colour as the lights strobe over him. “You zoned out again. Are you okay?”

“Mmhm,” Jens nods his head easily, happily. Chilled. He’s better than okay. He’s great. He’s at a party with his best friends and his head is clear of any and all intrusive, unwanted thoughts in his pleasant tipsy state and best of all he is nowhere near _Lucas_. 

“Is he drunk?” 

Jens sees a shock of white hair and grins, pushing himself away from the wall and falling against Sander’s chest, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. “Sander!”

Sander pats his back tentatively. “Hey, buddy.” Jens hears him mutter, “Definitely drunk,” to who he assumes must be Robbe, and pulls back with a scowl. 

“I’m not drunk.”

“Jens, you’re a little bit drunk. Do you want us to take you home?” Robbe asks gently. 

“No,” Jens vehemently shakes his head. The last thing he wants to do is go home. If he goes home, he’ll start thinking. He’ll start thinking about Lucas. Then he’ll get sad, and very possibly do something stupid. Like call him. Which is exactly what he’s been avoiding for almost a week. 

“Jens, come on. You can come home with us,” Sander assures him. And okay, that wouldn’t be too bad, only now that Jens thinks about it, he doesn’t really want to talk to Sander either. He can’t be entirely sure Sander is on his side. He can’t trust that this particular offer isn’t, somehow, a trick. For all he knows, Lucas is already staying with them. He wouldn’t be surprised. And if he doesn’t want to think about Lucas, or call him, he definitely doesn’t want to _see_ him. 

He doesn’t want to go. He wants to stay here, and let the music cover all the other sound in his head, and have fun with his friends, and maybe down a few more drinks. That’s what he wants. That’s what he _needs_. Not to be dragged away. Not to have two babysitters. 

“No thanks,” he says easily. 

Sander gives Robbe a pointed look, and then they start having one of their silent conversations that Jens is always left out of and oblivious to. He rolls his eyes and wanders a few feet away to a snack table. There’s a whole variety of crisps and hot food and baked goods and none of it looks particularly appealing to Jens, but he stands and munches on a few things just to ignore his friends for a little bit. He’d rather have another drink, though. 

“Jens.” Robbe appears at his shoulder again and he groans, rolling his eyes. Robbe doesn’t pay any heed, just grabs Jens lightly by his bicep and tugs him towards the doors leading outside. “Okay, okay, you don’t need to go home yet, but let’s just go out for some fresh air, okay?”

Jens scoffs, flailing his arm until he can finally wiggle it out of Robbe’s grip. “Robbe, why are you trying to stop my fun? I’m fine. I don’t want to go outside. I want to go to the kitchen and get another drink.”

Robbe begins to protest, snatching at his arm again, but Jens is already making his way back through the crowd and to the brighter light of the kitchen doorway. He tosses his head back with another groan when he spots Sander by the doorway. He catches Jens’s eyes and smiles apologetically, shrugging. Jens walks on up to him and gives him his best puppy eyes look. “Come on, Sander.”

“Trust me, you’ll thank me tomorrow.”

“How do you know I don’t want a glass of water?”

Sander raises a brow. “If that’s what you want, I can get it for you. You can stay right here.”

Jens sighs, closing his eyes briefly, and then Robbe is there again, shooting Jens a narrow-eyed glare. “Asshole,” he mutters. “People gave me weird looks after you made a scene.”

Jens rolls his eyes. “It was hardly a scene. I just want to go into the kitchen. Can you call off your guard dog, please?”

Robbe stares at him for a moment, exasperated, then throws his hands up. “You know what? Fine. If you want to go into the kitchen, go. Have a blast.”

Sander shoots Robbe a look, mouth dropping up. “Robbe, I don’t—“

Jens doesn’t hear anymore, because he’s already slipping past them to stand in the doorway, where he stops in his tracks. He understands now that Robbe and Sander weren’t trying to stop him from getting a drink, and weren’t so insistent on getting him home only because they think he’s ‘drunk’. No. 

It’s because they think he’s drunk and Lucas is standing in the kitchen, and they, obviously, think Jens is capable of making a scene. 

And, well, they might be right. 

Not because Jens is still mad at Lucas, or because he’s drunk. Not for anything as simple and stupid as that. Only because Lucas isn’t in the kitchen _alone_. Instead he’s talking to a guy roughly his height, a couple of years older than them, with dirty blonde hair and a beer in his hand and a smirk on his face that Jens detests. It doesn’t matter that Jens doesn’t know him, has never seen him before in his life. In this moment, Jens hates him. 

He resents that smirk, and the bit of stubble on his chin, and the easy way he’s talking to Lucas. The way he’s making Lucas laugh. The way his hand, where it rests on the counter, is just a little too close to Lucas’s. 

Jens is really glad he doesn’t have a drink in his hand. He might drop it, or if it was a can or a cup, crumple it, or whatever it was, throw it in that asshole’s smug face. 

Before he can do _anything_ , there’s a firm grip on his arm, holding him in place. Sander. On his other side, Robbe steps up close and hisses, “Jens, chill. Don’t be stupid.”

Jens isn’t being stupid. It’s not like he doesn’t trust Lucas. Never that. But he doesn’t trust this idiot, and he knows Lucas is still mad at him, too. Even though Jens can’t remember what they’re fighting about anymore, they’re still fighting. One thing merged into another and they made it worse instead of making it better. And now Lucas is here, without telling Jens anything about it, talking and laughing with a guy who is very much not Jens. 

His shoulders slump just a second before the guy’s smile drops into something less pleased, and he takes an awkward step back before walking away entirely. He brushes past Robbe on his way out the door, and Jens watches him until he disappears. When he turns back, Lucas is staring at him. 

Sander sighs and drops his grip on Jens’s arm. 

Jens shoots a suddenly hesitant glance at Robbe, who smiles reassuringly before giving him a light shove. Jens stumbles into the kitchen, then collects himself, moving towards Lucas. 

Lucas straightens as he approaches. His face is entirely blank. If Jens didn’t know him like the back of his hand, he’d miss the tightness around his mouth, the twitch of his jaw and single bob of his throat that betrays his nerves. He meets Jens’s eyes, however, as he greets him with a quiet, “Hi.”

Jens swallows. “Hey.” He realises, suddenly, that he hasn’t seen Lucas in almost a week. It had helped him hold his grudge, had made it easier to continue their fight, instead of giving in to the appealing shine of Lucas’s lips. Now that Lucas is in front of him, all Jens wants to do is take him into his arms. To apologise for whatever happened, regardless of who started it back then. He’ll take full responsibility for their stupidity if it means Lucas will smile and laugh at _him_ again, if it means Lucas will kiss him. 

But apparently he has had enough alcohol to muddle up the connection between his brain and his mouth because what comes out is, “That looked cosy.” Slightly slurred, definitely stupid, entirely petulant. 

Lucas stares for a moment, then raises a brow at him. “Are you drunk?”

Jens scoffs. “Why the fuck does everyone keep asking me that?” he grumbles. 

“So, you are.”

“I’m fine. You seem to be better than fine.”

“Jens. We can’t talk about this if you’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk!” 

Lucas drops his gaze to the floor and Jens sighs, rubbing his hand over his eyes. Robbe had told him to chill, and that’s what he needs to do to fix this. He doesn’t want to leave without fixing this. He doesn’t want to leave without Lucas, now. 

He softens his voice considerably before trying again. “Sorry. Maybe I’m a bit drunk. I didn’t mean to—I’m sorry, okay? Just, don’t go without talking to me. I want to talk. I _need_ to talk to you. Please?”

Lucas looks up at him, under his lashes, and Jens can’t help but shift a step closer, raising a hand to Lucas’s cheek. He catches himself before he makes contact, letting his hand drop back to his side. Lucas finally gives him a soft smile. “Okay. Talk, then.”

Jens takes a steadying breath as he tries to get his thoughts in order. “I’m sorry. We’ve been ignoring each other all week and I don’t even know why anymore. I don’t even remember what we fought about in the first place. I just got stuck in the silence and couldn’t make myself break it. I convinced myself I was still mad at you instead. But I’m not sure I was ever mad at you. I miss you, Luc. I don’t want to miss you anymore. I don’t want to be fighting with you.”

Lucas softens further. “And that guy pissed you off.”

Jens rolls his eyes, but shrugs. “And, that guy pissed me off. I could’ve been here, drinking with you all night, instead of getting drunk on my own while some...asshole hits on you.”

Lucas huffs a laugh, shaking his head slightly. “He was pretty nice, actually.”

The _audacity_. Jens’s jaw clenches, and he has to look away, because the point of this is not to get mad again. He’s trying to make amends, and Lucas is being a jerk. 

A gentle touch on his cheek draws his gaze back to Lucas again, and Jens can’t quite resist the stroke of his fingers over his skin. “But I told him I had a boyfriend,” Lucas continues. 

Jens blinks. He feels himself begin to smile. 

Lucas hesitantly admits, “I wasn’t sure if I was lying to him or not.”

That’s the last nudge Jens needs to raise his hands to Lucas’s face and pull him into a soft, aching kiss. Lucas immediately opens up to him, hands dropping to his waist to pull him in closer. Jens has missed this. He’s missed Lucas. He’s never, ever going to be that stupid again. 

Just as he’s about to slide his hand into Lucas’s hair, Lucas moves back, smiling as he smooths a hand down Jens’s back. “You taste like cherry, but, alcoholic.”

Jens smiles sheepishly. “I might’ve had a few shots of...something.”

Lucas shakes his head again and brushes a hand through Jens’s hair. Jens leans into the touch, relishes in it, and plants another, slightly sloppy kiss on Lucas’s cheek. Lucas says, “I’m sorry, too. We can both be pretty dumb, huh?” 

Jens nods, soaking up the gentleness of Lucas’s touch, the warmth of his presence, not realising his head has started to spin until Lucas wobbles a bit in his vision. 

There’s two of him by the time he’s shooting Jens a concerned look, hand sliding back around to his cheek as he asks, “Are you okay?”

“Mmm,” Jens hums, closing his eyes for a moment before trusting himself to speak. “I think, I need to go home? Please don’t tell Robbe and Sander.”

“Too late,” Robbe says cheerfully, once again popping out of nowhere to appear at Jens’s shoulder. “Glad to see you’ve come to your senses.”

Jens gains enough control of his expression to glower at him. 

Sander jingles his keys at them, nodding towards the doorway. “Come on, I’ll leave you both home.”

This time, Lucas is there to slide an arm around his waist, and Jens doesn’t feel any need to protest.


End file.
